


In a Hotel Room Where Demons Play

by ralsbecket



Series: Taboo Challenge [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel/Demon Sex, Angelic Grace Kink (Supernatural), Biting, Demon Deals, Demonic Possession, Dubious Science, Established Relationship, F/M, Loss of Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Mildly Dubious Consent, Nephilim reader, Not Canon Compliant, Reader is a Hunter, Rough Sex, Song: Coming Down (Halsey), a little if you squint, pre-season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralsbecket/pseuds/ralsbecket
Summary: Taboo Writing Challenge - Day 22: "I can't believe I'm saying yes to this."-The only way to ensure the Winchesters' protection is to make a salacious deal with a certain Yellow-Eyed Demon, who just so happened to be possessing John Winchester.
Relationships: Azazel (Supernatural)/You, John Winchester/You
Series: Taboo Challenge [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805110
Kudos: 18





	In a Hotel Room Where Demons Play

**Author's Note:**

> “In a hotel room where demons play  
> They run around beneath our feet  
> We roll around beneath these sheets  
> I've got a lover  
> A love like religion  
> I'm such a fool for sacrifice”  
> \- Halsey, _Coming Down_
> 
> A/N: I think I'm just going to write these writing prompts out of order, because some of them are more fun to do than others lol. This story in particular has been in my WIP folder since 2013 (?), originally part of an unpublished SPN series that I abandoned so here ya go; have some dubious science/grace powers with nephilim/demon sex

The early morning winds were cold against your back. You could feel your insides churn with every step that you took towards the motel room, dawn chasing your heels. Dread was the only feeling stuck in your throat as you stopped in front of the correct door.

You took a breath, the crease nearly permanently formed between your brows. Sam and Dean were fast asleep in your shared motel room – you’d made sure of it – before you’d snuck out. If they knew what you were doing, what you’d convinced yourself to do, they would have dragged you back and more than likely tied you up. But you knew more than anyone that the kind of shit the Winchesters recently got involved with had left you with almost no other alternative.

You needed to make a deal.

The door was unlocked when you tried the knob, opening easily with one twist. Inside, it was dimly lit. Only the lone bedside lamp provided any source of light, the blinds on the windows shut and the curtains drawn closed. He was lounging in one of the uncomfortable-looking chairs, a sinister grin dancing across his lips when his eyes met yours.

The same warm eyes you’d once trusted were replaced by ominous yellow ones. Seeing them sent an involuntary chill up your spine. Azazel stood to his feet, arms opening in your direction. “Okay, princess. I’m here. Let’s make a deal.”

John Winchester’s voice made you visibly wince. Your heart ached for the man trapped inside his own body, possessed by the thing he spent most of his life hunting. Hopefully, if your plan worked, he’d be freed. Safe.

You sighed out, “Alright, Yellow Eyes. I know I have a price for my head.”

“That’s understating things,” Azazel mused, taking a cautious step in your direction. “You’re the bargaining chip that everyone wants for leverage.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you forced yourself to maintain eye contact even though every fiber of your being wanted to look away. “The deal is for my soul and my grace. My life, for theirs.”

“Done.”

“Not yet,” you snapped. “I want _all_ of the Winchesters safe, including John. From you and whatever the hell is coming.”

His face twitched, a small scowl tugging at his mouth. It looked unnatural seeing it on John’s features. “And what exactly is coming that you’re willing to trade your little half-breed life away, hmm?”

“Try the end of the world, dickhead,” you countered.

Azazel scratched a hand under his chin as he laughed cynically. The only sound that came out was the usual carefree laugh of the senior Winchester. You wanted to throw up. “Right, of course,” he said, as if unconvinced. “And what would I care whether you mortals survive?”

Your expression hardened, upper lip stiffening. “Once Lucifer rises and wipes out the human race, it’s your kind that’s next.”

He blinked, eyes narrowing. “You have _no idea_ who I am, do you?” Azazel questioned, laughing a humorless laugh.

“You’re a Prince of Hell.” Your answer seemed to throw him off his game, a look of surprise washing over his face before he recovered. “In spite of that, I’m sure Daddy Dearest is going to have a fucking ball.”

He tensed up for a few moments, eyes locked on yours. Then, a smirk plastered itself on his face. “Lies. I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t need to believe me. Apocalypse or no, if the Winchesters are kept safe… You have _me_.”

After a long silence, Azazel began to walk to you. With each step he took, the look of resolve washing over John’s face, it felt like something was pulling thoroughly on your heartstrings. You couldn’t stand to look at him. “I’ll promise to keep all three of your little friends safe,” Azazel hissed out. Leaning forward to speak beside your ear, he added, “So, when you go to Hell… and you _will_ , your stinkin’ Nephilim soul is mine.”

An involuntary gasp escaped your lips when his face leveled with yours, yellow eyes boring into your own. The smell of sulfur was strong in your lungs. You bit the inside of your lip, stringing together what little courage you had left. “Okay, then. Let’s just… get this over with.”

“Oh, _sweetheart_ ,” he drawled, amused. A devious smirk formed on his face, his lips pulling back to showcase John’s perfect teeth. “For something like this, a simple kiss wouldn’t cut it.”

The smirk remained, and a deep pit seemed to grow in your stomach. You said in a voice just above a whisper, “I can’t believe I’m saying yes to this.”

“You could always walk away, leave your precious Winchesters to their own devices.” He smiled again, the movement reaching John’s eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his gaze shifted to yours. “If you’re the praying type, now would be a good time to start.”

You stiffened when his fingers snuck around your chin, turning your face up to his. You hadn’t even realized Azazel had stepped closer to you, but it was all you could think about now with John’s body heat pressed against your front.

“Winchester’s strong for a human…” He grimaced slightly, teeth clenching together. When his eyes volleyed back and forth between yellow and brown, his breath hit your face. Warm lips fell against your cold ones, pressing firm. John’s scruff was rough on your skin. Your eyes closed tight when his tongue slid past your teeth and his hands found purchase on your waist.

He led you backwards, falling into the mattress in a tangle of limbs when the edge of the bed hit the back of your knees. Azazel made quick work of your clothes, hands moving under your shirts and caressing your skin, before they were just _gone_. Pulling away with a wet smack, he began to nip and lick at your jaw, moving down the column of your neck. Your breaths came in short and shallow when he pressed his lips at the hollow of your throat.

“I can smell the grace on you,” he muttered against your beating pulse. The tip of his nose dragged along the tendons of your neck almost sensually before he sucked red marks into your skin. His hand flattened to the small of your back, pulling you flush against his body. An almost animalistic growl brewed from his chest when you instinctively rolled your hips against his.

Despite the particular situation you were in – reluctantly willing in a demon’s arms – your brain was centered on the feel of John’s touch, his unnatural warmth, and his mouth all over you. Without even thinking, you hooked an arm around his neck, pulling him down to your lips again. A shiver traveled up your spine as his hand grazed the skin at your hip and down your thigh, slipping between your legs to rub over your sex. His fingers, long and calloused, prodded at your entrance; heat rushed up to your cheeks at just how _wet_ you already were. Azazel smiled against your mouth, shifting himself slightly so he could slick his half-hard cock between your folds.

You opened your eyes for a moment – never realizing you’d closed them in the first place – and took in the look on John’s face. The appearance Azazel gave him was both intimidating and arousing, and you wondered if the wires were already that far crossed in your head.

Suddenly, Azazel groaned, gripping his own head in pain. “Damn,” he gritted out. “Your friend here sure is going to make it hard to seal the deal.”

You watched hesitantly, waiting. When he opened his eyes again, they were dilated; only a rim of brown was visible around the wide-blown blackness. John – _John_ looked down at you, and in that moment, you weren’t sure whether to run or figure out a way to help him.

“I-I have him, I think,” he groaned. “I got – don’t do this.” John palmed his face, sweat already forming on his skin. “Y/N, you can’t – you can’t sell your soul for –” His breathing turned ragged, strained, as he likely fought for grip against the demon in his body.

Breath seemed to be caught in your throat as you moved to brush his hair away from his eyes, knowing that in any moment, he could just as easily let go. “John?”

With a grunt, he all but fell against you, catching his weight on his forearms. With his body hovering over you still, you were as good as trapped. You bit back a moan when his hips rocked forward, his cock rubbing against your clit. But then his tip was pushing against your entrance, John moving with soft thrusts as he continued forward. Your back arched as he pushed in, hands gripping his shoulders, eyes squeezing shut at the slight burn of the stretch as your body tried to accommodate him. You panted, the pain slowly dissolving into pleasure as he moved slow enough for you to adjust.

“Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” A shallow chuckle left his lips as he mouthed against your neck. The deep tone of his voice confirmed that Azazel had taken helm once again.

He pulled back to only plunge into you roughly, pulling out a strained _oh_ _fuck_ from your mouth. Your inner walls clenched around his cock, thicker than you’d imagined, but just enough that you started to feel almost lightheaded with every thrust.

Azazel buried his face against your neck, pistoning into you like a fucking machine. Soon enough, the only thoughts in your head were _full full so full_ and _holy shit_. Even though you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, you couldn’t muffle the pants, the curses, or even the loud moans that managed to slip past your lips.

But on God, the feeling was indescribable. It was like being injected with adrenaline, like heat running through your veins, like rolling waves crashing. He stopped for only a few moments, pulling your legs around his waist before continuing. Each thrust stole your breath, with the head of his cock brushing against your cervix. You raked your nails across his back, broad and muscled and with raised scars littering his skin from over the years.

You could feel your orgasm build up tight in your gut, and with every hurried thrust and huffed grunt, you knew he was close. The lamp at the bedside table started to flicker, and in the throes of sex, it was barely a thought that _you_ were the cause. Azazel’s hands tightened at your sides, sure to leave bruises for days. He dipped his head down again with John’s beard scratching at your skin.

He licked up your throat with the flat of his tongue, his lips moving as if searching for something. In a few more thrusts, you were unraveling underneath him, half-screaming out a moan as pleasure spread through your limbs. Azazel bit your neck, hard enough to break skin, and the surging pain only nudged the back of your mind as your orgasm continued to roll over you. Your walls pulsed around his cock and he thrust forward one last time before cumming inside of you, ribbons of heat filling your core.

The light blew out. Your eyes and your neck burned, a familiar feeling after your Nephilim powers had set in, and the only mildly coherent words that blipped into your mind was _grace_ and _is he already extracting it_?

He mouthed over the injury on your neck, trailing wet kisses up to your lips. When his tongue brushed against yours, you could faintly taste the metallic tinge of blood and… something else that you couldn’t put your finger on. Your entire body was fatigued, and your limbs felt weightless. It was a struggle even to open your eyes, but when you did, you saw his yellow eyes again, staring down at you in what you could only describe as unaffected curiosity.

“It was my genuine _pleasure_ doing business with you, princess,” he said under his breath. And then, with a strangled shout, his very essence of smoke high-tailed it out of John’s host body.

He fell limp against you again, probably as drained and sore as you felt. You hugged John close to you, staring at the ceiling half-awake. You may have sold your soul, and you may have given up your grace, but the silver-lining was that the Winchesters were going to be safe. Eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> [Check out my linktree for tumblr, discord, and other socials!](https://linktr.ee/ralsbecket)


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